Work Text:
Memories
Even though many years had passed, she still had dreams about that moment. Nightmares. She closed her eyes and as soon as she did so, she saw him. And she was afraid, for she believed that it would be one more life that would die at her hands.
It was nighttime. She was working in a field hospital set up by the organization she worked for to save the lives of those in need. For some time now there had been clan warfare, black market movements, and a lot of smuggling and illegal trade, which led to more than one fight that evolved into something more serious. And her job was to precisely save those lives that someone suddenly considered not indispensable.
Although it was mostly in dreams when she relived the scene, the doctor was also occasionally tormented when she was awake. She closed her eyes and everything around her transformed. Shouts. Orders. And blood. Blood everywhere. Her whole being shuddered even though she didn't know the victim at all. But it was her duty to save him. Because what hurt her most in the world was not being able to do anything and seeing another life fade away under her hands.
She was lost among documents, medical records, and several empty coffee cups scattered on the table when she received the call. The phone rang a couple of times until she picked it up.
"Dr. Ziegler. Is something wr-?"
"It's an emergency, doctor! Prepare operating theatre two, we are airlifting by helicopter a young man who was stabbed at least twenty times!"
"Right now!"
She dropped the chair as she got up from it, mobilized her trustworthy team, and within minutes everything was ready to receive the patient. She moved to the door leading to the area designated for the helipad. The sound emitted by the engines broke the silence, and soon, the wind caused by these engines violently tousled the young woman's blonde hair. The vanes were still in motion when the emergency team got out of the vehicle, carrying a stretcher with a body which already showed the gravity of the situation, despite the distance. If she had to describe the scene in a single word, she would answer without hesitation: Bloody. They moved quickly and as they brought him into the facility, the doctor was able to make a quick assessment. The injured man, who at first glance appeared to be younger than she was, was bleeding from a myriad of open cuts. Whoever tried to kill him had attempted to do so ruthlessly. They ran through the corridors and two bags of blood waved next to the stretcher. O-neg was marked in large letters, but the sustenance was of little use, for as soon as the crimson liquid flowed into him, it flowed out with nothing to stop it.
"Hurry. He will bleed to death if we don't hurry."
The blonde urged, overwhelmed, as the metal doors closed behind them and what would become a fight to save the young man's life against the clock began. Her voice rose above the others giving quick and concise orders. Asking for the necessary instruments, calling the blood bank unit to be given as many bags as possible, and connecting life-support devices here and there to the body that was increasingly slipping out of their hands.
"Perform the intubation quickly! Perform the intubation quickly! I need an amp of epi right now! The heart rate is plummeting!"
Angela shouted, assessing the severity of the damage as they proceeded. The young man didn't arrive with any part of his body severed. At least not entirely. However, and to the doctor's grief, she would have to make the difficult decision as to which limbs were to be removed to keep the man alive. But at what cost.
His right arm and both legs at the knees, above the thighs, would have to be replaced by prostheses. She also had to open him up to assess the damage caused to his internal organs, without ruling out the possibility of having to repair some of them using biologically compatible materials. Over twelve hours of surgery lay ahead for the whole team and at this time, Angela was glad to have drunk a few extra coffees. Even with all this, she couldn't help but feel a knot in her stomach because of the situation. As a doctor, her priority was to save as many lives as she could, but in such extreme cases, the ethics of the procedure had to be weighed. How good would the young man's quality of life be if the surgery was successful? How much of his own body would they manage to save and how much would they have to change to make his life sustainable? And the hardest part. What would he think when he woke up, if he did, and found that he wasn't the man he'd always been?
It wasn't the time to think, so she proceeded.
— — —
It was still dark when the blonde's eyelids lifted, and she couldn't sleep any longer. She slowly turned her head and looked at the time shaped by the green digits glowing in the dark. It was 5:24 am. As she lay there, running a hand over her forehead, she tried to calm her own breathing, which had been agitated by the dreams into which she had been immersed. By her side, her partner was resting in complete peace and tranquility. His lungs moved rhythmically and slowly, and his expression remained completely serene. One of his arms was around her waist, holding her in his embrace and close to him. He refused to let her go even when he was asleep, and she loved that.
She was lying on her back, so she gently rolled over, trying not to wake him so that she was facing him. She placed a hand on his greenish hair and softly caressed it, brushing away some of the unruly strands that fell across his forehead. She knew that wouldn't wake him up, so she did it fearlessly. She would never have imagined that she would share a future with the young man who had arrived almost lifeless to her in the past.
Both had been through a lot over the years. For too much. And while she did her best to help Genji get used to and adapt to his new body quickly, it was by no means an easy process. She tried and gave it her all, but Genji's denial along with the hatred and disgust he felt at what he had become made the task very complicated. And hard. She still perfectly remembered how his awakening was. The way he stared at her first with fascination and surprise... The way he weakly raised his hand in an attempt to reach out to her and how the sparkle in his eyes turned to pain as he realized that the arm, he had raised wasn't like he remembered it. Disgust and revulsion followed. And hatred.
Angela pursed her lips, trying to undo the feeling of overwhelm and fear that had momentarily taken over her entire being, while still stroking his hair and scarred face. She was grateful that she could care and love him so much that it overflowed from every pore of her skin. Even to this day, she wanted to protect it as if it were the first time, she had held him in her hands.
— — —
"Stable vital signs. Oxygen saturation level at 96%. Systolic pressure of 118 mmHg and diastolic pressure of 70 mmHg. Heart rate 68 bpm."
The doctor wrote down the values on her tablet while she made the relevant assessments of the patient. Weeks later, the young man woke up on more than once and had to be sedated due to his violent attitude and several attempts to escape from the center. The organization the doctor worked for paid a large sum of money for the patient's treatment, but in return they requested an upgrade in prosthetics in order to actively recruit him into their ranks. They knew the young Japanese' record: Born into one of Japan's most important families, trained in the art of assassination, he was a succulent piece of candy in the hands of a kid who wanted to keep him as long as possible. And they had paid a lot for him. That' s why, despite the doctor's opinion, she was forced to carry out the necessary upgrades and treatments not only to ensure his survival, but also his viability in combat. And he knew it. And he hated her for it.
At that time, Genji was in a deep sleep. As the days went by, his body was increasingly replaced by metallic material and a myriad of wires connected to all kinds of electronic devices. Computer and biomedical programmes recorded every change in his body, allowing Dr. Ziegler to make a very accurate diagnosis, so that she could make the necessary changes and improvements. She worked on him far more hours than she spent on her own rest, but she had promised herself the young man would get out of there alive.
A beep and a murmur signaled that he was waking up. She put the tablet under one arm and watched him behind the black-rimmed glasses interestedly. And maybe fear, even if not a millimeter of her face conveyed it. He was kept tied up for several reasons, but one of them was precisely in case he had an outburst of anger. It wouldn't be the first time he tried to hurt her to escape. And to remind her that the opportunity to continue living wasn't welcome. She didn't know the details of why a relative would deliberately go to such lengths to ensure his death, but knowing a little about the background of the Japanese mafia she could imagine that, from his point of view, there would be a motive for it. She remained at a safe distance and smiled softly. However, if they had been in a different situation, she might have burst into tears at the thought of the suffering he might be undergoing psychologically. Her medicine was very advanced, to the point where she was able to access the ninja's subconscious when it came to programming the prosthetic parts of his body. And thus, she found out (even if she hadn't needed the technology to do so) how many and varied the forms of autolysis the dark-haired man could come up with.
"How are you feeling today, Genji?"
"Just like the last few times, doctor."
The way he pronounced her profession always stuck in the deepest part of her soul. If words poisoned, she knew that those would be the last words she would hear before dying.
"Do you have any pain or discomfort in any part of your body? Tingling, cramps? Do you have a headache?"
"It bothers me having you in front of me. When are you going to put an end to all this?"
"When I make sure you walk out of this hospital on your own two feet."
"I'd rather cut my legs off than do that."
Angela sighed, ending the conversation. Some days the Japanese seemed more receptive to talk. On others, he just emphasized how much he hated everything around him, his condition, and of course, her.
First a step. Then another. As the days went by, the ninja's progress became greater and greater. Unfortunately for him, he spent most of his time at the base prostrate on a stretcher, connected by various parts both to life support and to the batteries or the electricity that optimized his new body. Angela had also been working hard on her own research, trying to speed up the recovery process as much as possible so that Genji could get out of treatment and exams once and for all. She continued arguing with those above her, uncomfortable and completely against the missions to which the Japanese were increasingly being sent. He was silent. And lethal. So, he didn't miss any of the most dangerous ones. Nor did he skimp on being careful: His return was a daily challenge and a surprise for the doctor. Parts to be repaired, parts to be replaced... The relationship they were forging grew gradually closer, even if that didn't exempt them from having more than a few run-ins now and then. It was still somewhat complicated.
They were both seated at the time. Genji, keeping his arm outstretched and his gaze averted, let himself be treated by the doctor. The silence was palpable throughout the room and the blonde was focusing all her attention on sewing up a small cut he had made on the forearm he still possessed. Her brow was furrowed, and her mouth tightened, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the ninja, who wore his mask pulled back to his nose area. He rested his slightly crimson gaze on her and smiled faintly, amused by such an expression of concentration. Every now and then he slipped in gestures like that, but thanks to his half-hidden face, they went unnoticed by Angela. Or so he thought.
"I'm going to stop treating you for these kinds of wounds. Genji, you can't rely on your prosthetic parts to withstand cuts or shots. Better start being a little more careful or I'll leave it up to Jesse to give you a disastrous cure."
"... It won't happen again."
"We both know it's a lie."
A sigh, and a reproach that wasn't serious. Genji was getting to grips with the use of his new body and even though he didn't accept it yet, he seemed to have adapted to it. He had no choice, though. The stinging remarks became progressively less frequent, but that didn't save her from getting one or two in moments of instability.
The doctor didn't know it, but despite believing that the patient had developed a dependence on the doctor, it was in fact quite the opposite. It was she who didn't want to be apart from him under any circumstances.
— — —
06:58
There were barely a couple of minutes left before the alarm clock went off, signaling to the doctor that it was time to get out of bed. Working at the base was quiet and the reality was that there wasn't a need for her to get up so early in the morning to start her working day. However, for some time now, sleeping for more than five hours had become a pleasure out of her hands that had led to a kind of insomnia that kept her alert 24/7. She reached out to turn it off before it rang to prevent the annoying sound from disturbing the other.
She let out a sigh. She was so comfortable, warm, and calm that even if it didn't seem so, it was an enormous effort to leave the place. With the significant bonus that Genji was still hugging her and didn't want to be apart from her under any circumstances. She stared at him for a few seconds, before finally leaving a soft kiss on his forehead; just a caress with her lips so as not to disturb his sleep. Then she turned over, still lying down with her back to him before wanting to sit up in bed. But she couldn't do it.
The arm that minutes before had gently encircled her waist had now exerted greater force, preventing her movement. Still with her back to him, she turned up the corners of her lips into a smile, momentarily closing her eyes. Work seemed to be on the sidelines for the time being.
"Nobody's going to tell you anything for starting the day a little late today, doctor."
Genji's voice, hoarse from hours of sleep but sweet at the same time, broke the silence between them. That word she had heard so often from him, loaded with hatred and sarcasm, was now pure sweetness. His arm remained tightly around her waist and she felt his body cling to her back completely, as he pressed a kiss first to her hair, then to her cheek. Instantly she noticed how Genji settled back in, fitting the two of them together as if they were one being. Angela understood that there was lost the battle.
"I just wanted to make some progress with some of my projects."
"There isn't anyone on mission these days, so you won't have anyone to attend to. Your projects can wait a little while, Angela."
"Try to convince me that I gain by staying here with you."
"I don't need to."
He wasn't wrong. She settled herself, still with her back to him, and let out a soft laugh that he soon joined in. They had been through a lot. For too much. But after years of trying to build a good relationship between them, the long-awaited moment finally arrived. They had been friends for several years, keeping a close friendship, spending a lot of sleepless nights over coffee: While she was working, he was simply accompanying her. Silently enjoying feelings beyond friendship which they believed were unrequited by the other. Eventually, that finally changed as well. They didn't get off to a good start. However, the ending was certainly more than worth it.
"I guess it's ok for me to stay a little longer."
"That' s the first meaningful thing I've heard from your lips today."
"Maybe that's the only thing, Shimada."
A laugh.
"I love you, Angy."
"I love you too, Gen."